From the Brothel The Diary of Molly McCash

Drunken nights, red lights, brutal fights, and lowered tights. I've spent years, dancing on the stairs, decorating Miss Abby's stair rails. I've certainly "entertained" my fair share of gentleman. Men would always come and go, but a wench's brothel family - that's forever . . . Forever out to get over on you. Forever out to cheat you. Forever willing to steal from you. Forever vacant of heart. Forever waiting like vultures, starving to feast on the remnants of the hollowed corpse of a soul's dreams. Always, and forever! I decided, after years of being a main attraction and a reliable profit for Miss Abby, that it was time to explore other brothel options. As the saying goes, sometimes, better the devil you know. I never knew any way other than Miss Abby's ways. It is a big, ol' world and I felt familiar with that world. It had no idea! When you hit rock bottom, there should be only one way to go. Turns out, when I hit rock bottom, I have a knack for digging a hole - and sooner or later, I just might end up in that hole. No one would miss a whore, particularly one who is a "mick." I guess you could say if it weren't for missteps, why I'd never gain any ground at all. Somehow, I guess I always get where I'm aiming to go. Rocky as the road may be.